After Meeting the Robinsons
by MaskedxMaestro
Summary: All is well for Lewis Robinson after his great time traveling adventure. But whatever happened to Bowler Hat Guy? Does he ever learn to keep moving forward or is his future full of nothing but despair? Goob must discover what truly matters in life to fully understand Lewis' motto.
1. Chapter 1

When thinking of a typical family dinner, most words that come to mind would be "calm" or "peaceful", and maybe even "boring" depending on the specific family in question. But dinner at the Robinson's household was anything but ordinary. From gravy being pulled by a train, to singing frogs on the chandelier, and even the occasional food fight, it was hard not to grin at the foolishness of it all. The Robinsons were certainly no ordinary family and as such they believed that any moment could be taken advantage of to be creative and to have fun. And tonight was no different.

Franny Robinson sat at the head of the table. Her black hair swooped back into an elegant cow lick and her dress neatly folded against the chair. She was the head of the household, and as such looked on with poise and grace while her family chatted before her.

Lucille and Bud, the grandparents of the household, were busy discussing the fine qualities of grapefruits. Joe and Billie, Franny's in-laws, debated how big of a splatter a grapefruit would make if it were run over by a train. Mrs. Robinson's brothers Gaston and Art considered a possible race to see who could save the grapefruit before it was rudely splattered. Meanwhile, Tallulah and Laszlo, the brother and sister in-laws, were fighting over who could design a better furniture set. And who couldn't forget about Petunia and Fritz, parents of the obnoxious furniture-set arguing siblings, who were busy bickering about who was going to stop their children from nit-picking each other.

All in all, there was a lot of noise in the dining room. Which wasn't uncommon on a daily basis. In fact, had the room been quiet, the entire affair would have been very unusual. But Franny wasn't paying attention to the sound coming from her relatives. Rather, she was focusing on the opposite end of the table where a man with spikey blonde hair and round glasses was sitting. This was in fact her husband, Cornelius Robinson. Famous inventor and world-renowned for his latest creation - the time machine. To picture a grand scientist such as he would have one immediately imagining a tall and proud member of the family, sitting up straight and offering all kinds of fascinating theories to the dinner table. But while Cornelius did in fact have days where he acted as such, tonight was not the case. Instead, he slumped in his chair and stared at his food with no particular interest, staying silent and looking rather depressed. Hence, why Franny was focused on him.

As head of the household, Mrs. Robinson was use to understanding when someone tried to hide their true emotions from others. There were plenty of occasions where she had offered advice to a guilt-ridden family member and to ease their pain. It was what she did best. With just one look at Cornelius' face, she could tell something was wrong. But what Franny didn't understand, however, was what exactly was wrong. For Mr. Robinson had, in actuality, been acting strange all week. And not once had he offered any kind of hint as to what might be on his mind.

Twirling her fork between her fingers, Franny's eyes squinted with frustration. She was determined to figure out her husband's upsetting and ultimately, to fix it. But it worried her that he didn't come out and say it first. Their relationship had always been built on trust and whenever one had doubts, they would come to the other for advice. This was the first time in a very long time that Cornelius was refusing to be the first to speak up and it bothered her. Whatever it was that was on his mind must be truly troubling if it meant keeping it from her.

_What is it?_ she thought. _What could it be?_

After a moment or two or brooding, Franny finally decided she had had enough. Standing up, she walked over to the other side of the table (narrowly avoiding a thrown tomato by an outraged Tallulah) and placed her hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Alright, you've been in a mood for a week now. What's wrong?"

Cornelius appeared to snap to attention as though he had been asleep with his eyes open.

"Huh?" he managed to say, blinking up at her. Finally registering what she had said, the inventor turned his head away with embarrassment and looked around at the table quickly. "Oh, I, uh, well, I was just wondering where Wilbur was."

Franny gave a face of sarcasm as it was obvious that she had caught him in a lie to avoid the real answer.

"Our son is in the kitchen, as he has been all week, doing the dishes. But I think you know that since we're both the ones that grounded him."

Cornelius grinned sheepishly up at his wife before looking down at his plate and shrugging. It was a bad attempt to avoid the question but at least he had tried.

"You're going to tell me what's wrong after dinner." Mrs. Robinson said.

Cornelius took in a large breath before letting it out slowly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I should. Alright."

Satisfied with having gotten her way, Franny smiled and returned back to her seat to finish dinner, looking ever so forward to what her husband would say.

With the plates cleared and having stopped a moment to give her son Wilbur an encouraging word to clean each dish carefully, Franny was finally ready to talk to Cornelius privately. As soon as dinner was over he had taken the liberty of whisking away upstairs before anyone could ask where he was going, which concerned her.

Making her way upstairs, Mrs. Robinson entered her husband's laboratory. It was a giant domed conservatory filled with many types of machinery for experiments old and new. There were machines larger than an elephant and there were machines that could fit in your palm. Colorful or plain metallic, each was unique and each contained the power to do something extraordinary. Tables were spread across the room covered with tubing and random vials filled with liquids. Papers were scattered around with notes here and there on different hypotheses. It was Cornelius' safe haven, a place of intellect as well as play. And because the room was known for its exciting birth of new ideas, Franny was almost startled to see it at night. With only the moonlight and stars bouncing off of the shining surfaces, the room felt heavy with sadness rather than alight with gaiety. But perhaps it wasn't the machinery that drove this mood but rather the man that stood in the center of it all. His hands were shoved deep into his white coat pockets and he stared up at the night sky with a furrowed brow.

"Cornelius?" Mrs. Robinson whispered, afraid to speak any louder lest to disturb the quiet room.

"Hey..." he responded with a heavy heart, turning to look at his wife.

"Cold up here." she said, rubbing her arms absentmindedly.

"Yes, a little." the inventor agreed, nodding his head slightly. They shared a moment's silence, staring at each other.

"So..." Franny began. "Will you let me in on what's going on?"

Cornelius smiled weakly before nodding again.

"It's funny... I had always looked forward to this week."

"This week?"

"Yeah... This week." Mr. Robinson turned and slowly moved towards one of the tables littered with books. "You know how it was only a week and a half ago that Wilbur caused the whole time machine loop hole involving my past self? And I told you all about how I remember being twelve and experiencing that big adventure."

Franny nodded. She did know. He had sat her down and explained the entire thing. Boy, was that a long conversation. Fascinating to say the least. She stepped forward, following him to the table and letting him continue talking.

"I told you everything that happened from beginning to end from my point of view. But what I didn't tell you was what I did after the big adventure. What I thought in those next few days after I left Wilbur on the rooftop of that orphanage. You see, I remember going back to the past that day when I eventually won the science fair with my memory scanner. I felt so happy. I looked so forward to the future, when I would live with my wonderful family and be able to invent great things for good people to enjoy them. But what I looked forward to the most was this specific week."

"Why this week?" Franny asked with a confused tone.

"I knew that if I planned my cards right, I would for sure be able to live with all of you. Have the house that I dreamed of. Live the life I always wanted. It was never a mystery to me because I had seen it with the time machine. I knew it would happen so I didn't have to worry. Life was, in a way, set up for me. But there was still one thing I wasn't sure about. Just one thing I didn't have an answer for. And that was this."

Cornelius reached forward among the books on the table and pulled forth a pink binder. The face of a white unicorn was on the front along with hearts and sparkles.

"What is that?" questioned Mrs. Robinson.

"This belonged to my roommate. Goob. Michael. You see, that day a week and a half ago when I met my past twelve-year-old self, Goob was there earlier. Before I came back from my trip, my younger self, stood alongside Wilbur and instructed him to invite my roommate to live with us here in this house. But before I knew it, Goob had disappeared, having dropped this before he ran. I always wondered what had happened to him. Where he went and what he did with his life. I thought for sure that once I had grown up that I would find out. That perhaps a few days later he would show up on our doorstep, wanting to reconsider my offer to stay here. But... it's been more than a week, Franny, and I haven't heard a word. I'm worried about him. He doesn't have a family to go home to. I'm not even sure if he has a real home at all."

Mrs. Robinson stared up at her husband's face. It was etched with sadness and she could tell that this was important to him. Reaching forward, she took the binder in her hands and opened it. Inside there was written a checklist, most of it having been scribbled out. The last unmarked checkbox, however, remained untouched with a question mark next to it. Franny's heart sank slightly at the sight of it before closing the binder and setting it down.

"Honey, you can't let this get you down. He chose his path. It wasn't your fault."

"I know it wasn't my fault." Cornelius said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just feel like he's out there somewhere lost and confused. I was so sure that he would come back and he hasn't. What if he's still stuck on the past? What if he blames himself and will never be happy? What if-"

"Cornelius..." Franny interrupted, staring up with pity in her eyes. "You've always been sure of yourself because you had a time machine to tell you what to look forward to. You knew if you took the right measures, you'd have a bright future ahead of you. But honey... Not everyone has a great adventure like you got to have. Not everyone is sure of themselves in such a strong way that they can keep moving forward without guidance. Some people can't move forward. Sometimes they're just... stuck." She put her fingers gently on his arm.

A deep pang of guilt flowed through the inventor's heart. He winced as though the pain he felt were so strong that he could physically feel it. Franny sensed this and immediately continued to speak.

"But... If you feel that badly about it, why don't you find him? Perhaps he really does wish to stay here but feels too shy to come back and ask now that he has already denied it once."

Cornelius tilted his head in thought. His eyebrows relaxed as he mulled the idea over. It wasn't actually half-bad. Finding him might be difficult but, well, wait. Would it be difficult? If he had to guess one place where Goob had gone after having disappeared that day, where would he guess?

Mrs. Robinson smiled at the expression on her husband's face. It had changed from melancholy to curiosity in just a matter of seconds. It was the same smirk he gave when an idea for an invention came to life.

"What?" she asked him.

"Franny..." Mr. Robinson said, turning to look at her. "I'm going to need a box."


	2. Chapter 2

On the outskirts of Todayland sat an old and desolate brick building. What once was a full and busy orphanage now was an abandoned reflection of yesteryear. The facade was now cracked and left to the elements, abandoned to someday be demolished by someone who was willing to pay for it. But since no one had any ideas on what to replace it with, the building was left to creak and settle by itself.

Compared to the bright and bubbly new buildings in the surrounding area, the 6th Street Orphanage definitely stuck out like a sore thumb. How it had managed to survive as long as it had was anyone's guess. Just one look at it and one was sure to instantly become a tad bit sadder. The drooped windows and crumbling walls alone could send a pang of extra weight to one's heart.

But perhaps the saddest thing of all about the orphanage was not its rusted hinges or the rotting wood planks nailed across the front doors. Nor was it the many empty beds that littered the bedrooms inside. The saddest thing was the man that still lived there, hidden from the outside world.

Nestled high in the building, within the room he had called home since childhood, Michael Yagoobian laid in the very same bunk bed he had slept in all his life. He was tall, thin as a rake, and completely covered in black attire. From the cape around his neck to his heeled boots to even his long dark brown mustache, "Goob", as they called him, was certainly a character. But while his visage could certainly cause a bit of a laughter, his current mental state of mind was not something to be laughed at.

Depression was not a deep enough word to describe what Michael was feeling. His entire body felt like it was sinking into the bed beneath him. He felt exhausted and yet wide awake at exactly the same time. Moving was difficult, as though every bone desired nothing more than to remain in the same place until all eternity. Hunger was not something that he felt and as such he had gone without eating for nearly the entire week and a half that he had been lying there. What was bothering him? In one word: Loneliness.

Goob had been alone nearly all of his life. From never having been adopted to living out his days in an abandoned orphanage, he never had anyone significant in his life for very long. It was true that Cornelius Robinson once slept in the very bed above him, but that had been so very long ago. Thirty years ago, to be exact. One would think now of all times that living by himself wouldn't bother Michael, but due to recent circumstances, that thought process was heavily misunderstood.

It was merely a week and a half ago that Goob's life had changed dramatically. Originally, his life had been filled with anger and hatred, driven to the thought of revenge against Cornelius over a small mishap that had been blown far out of proportion. But all of that changed when a young boy proved to him that life did not have to be filled with regret and frustration. All one had to do was to keep moving forward and to let go of the past. It was a beautiful motto and certainly one to be remembered. But there was only one problem. How was Goob suppose to move forward? He had spent the last thirty years of his life brooding over one subject and nothing else. He had no family, no friends, and his childhood dream of becoming a baseball star was long behind him. What more was there to live for? And if this all wasn't enough to send him reeling into despair, there was still yet one more problem on top of it all.

Doris.

Doris was a bowler hat. A robotic one that had the ability to communicate and understand just as well as any human would be able to. She was the ultimate reason for Goob's dramatic life change and further more, the number one reason for his depression.

She had appeared to him as though out of a dream, promising to aide him in his quest for revenge against Cornelius. To Goob, Doris was the only friend he had ever had and as such, the dearest. She had helped him in what he believed at the time to be the right path in life to take. And that was what any good friend was meant to do.

Unfortunately for Michael, Doris was not the friend that he had so strongly believed her to be. She betrayed him, tricking him into assisting her desire to take over the world. Had she succeeded, he would certainly not be alive today.

But was he thankful for that, really? To be alive and unhappy, living out the rest of his days alone in a dirty building? Staring blankly at the iron poles that made up the top bunk above him, tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. Although his goals had been entirely misguided, life without Doris seemed meaningless. He had, for the first time ever, been happy when she had been there. And even now he wished there was a way to bring her back, despite what her true intentions were. Sure, he had been alone before. He knew how to handle that. But after having a taste of what it was like to be so close to someone, even if they didn't return the same feelings, the loneliness was too much to bear.

Thus, Goob laid upon his bed refusing to move. The tears that formed never fell, as they hadn't for the entire week and a half that he'd been lying there, but they made his vision blurry. Blinking, he turned his head slowly to look out the window. It was a beautiful blue sky with bright white clouds. Todayland's tall buildings could be seen as well as large red letters on a billboard that read, "KEEP MOVING FORWARD". The message, while its intention was meant for inspiration, met Goob's heart with a painful stabbing. It mocked him with its bright and cheerful motivation. Insulting what was clearly not a bright future for him. Yet despite the anguish felt within his stomach, Michael couldn't tear his eyes away. They were glued to the letters, tracing each line that made up the individual shapes. Perhaps it was a way to pass the time. Or perhaps it was the only thing he could do to keep his mind from thinking too hard.

Suddenly something interrupted the silence.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Startled, Goob blinked and tore his eyes away from the red letters. Had he just heard..?

_Knock, knock, knock._

No... it couldn't be... could it..? But this building was abandoned... who in their right mind would walk up to it and knock on the d-

"Goob!" shouted a horribly familiar voice.

Completely taken by surprise, Michael gasped and sat up fast, unexpectedly hitting his head against the bed above him. Dazed, he raised his hands to his head to comfort his now aching skull. Turning towards the window, he waited a moment to see if he would hear the voice again. Surely it was just his imagination...

"Goob, it's me! Lewis!"

Oh, no, he had heard a familiar voice! Raising himself very slowly from the bed, Michael slunk over to the window, being sure to keep out of sight. He pressed his back hard against the wall before daring to inch his head forward to peer down at the front steps. His eyes widened at what he saw. Cornelius Robinson stood on the top step, a box in his hands. The inventor was looking directly up at the window that Michael was looking out of.

"Goob! I knew you would be here!"

Gasping again, Michael immediately dropped to the floor and raised his knees up to his chin. Nervously putting his clenched hands to his mouth, Goob frantically looked around the room for means of escape. _What was Cornelius doing here?!_

"Wait! Don't go! Goob, I have something for you! Wont you let me in?"

Michael closed his eyes. It was a ridiculous attempt at making the inventor go away but he tried it never the less. Why did Lewis have to show up at his door? And now of all times? The last they had spoken was technically thirty years ago for the inventor. A week and a half for himself. And their last topic of conversation had been where Cornelius had invited Goob to live with he and his family at the Robinson household, despite all the harm that he had intended upon the young Lewis. Michael had panicked, running off without answering the invitation. To see his roommate now, even if it technically was thirty years later, would be incredibly awkward.

Silence fell. Goob dared not look out the window but after a minute passed he wondered if the inventor had finally given up. Just when he was about to sigh in relief, Cornelius spoke again. This time not a yell, but simply a calm and steady tone of voice.

"I'm not here to interrogate you about wanting to live with me. I just want to give you something and then I'll leave. But if you don't want to talk, that's okay. I'll leave the box by the doorstep."

Goob felt too paralyzed to speak. Playing with his fingers and staring hard at the desk opposite the room, Michael waited to hear Cornelius' footsteps. Sure enough, after a moment or two of waiting patiently, a soft thumping could be heard echoing away into the distance. He was gone. Goob stood up slowly and twisted around to peer out the window. A medium sized box approximately the size of a small tv was sitting on the doormat. He looked up to see if Cornelius was still in the process of walking away but he saw no one and thus decided it would be safe to walk downstairs.

Creeping gently to the front door, Michael pulled the doorknob back. A long and low creaking sound released into the front hallway but he paid no mind to it. Ducking underneath the boards that had been nailed into the door frame, Goob quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen him. Eyeing no one, he rushed forward to grab the box (which was lighter than he had expected) and dove back into the orphanage, slamming the door shut.

Kneeling down to the floor, he stared at the box before him. What could possibly be inside? What would Lewis have that he would want? Was it an invention, perhaps? His eyes squinted suspiciously at it as though it were filled with something that could potentially jump out and bite him. But that was a silly thought. Cornelius was innocent and he had learned the hard way that the inventor never meant him any harm. Reaching tentatively forward, Goob placed his fingers along the edge and slowly lifted the flaps.  
Immediately his body slumped at the sight. His eyebrows raised to a confusion of emotions. His stomach flipped at what was inside and yet a heavy weight seemed to slowly drop into his throat.

A plain black bowler hat sat atop his old pink unicorn binder. The hat was not his dear robotic friend for it did not have a camera lens but the shape of the hat itself seemed oddly similar to hers. The sight of it caused his heart to break. Slipping his hands gently into the box, he lifted the hat up to see it better, fingers curling against the edges.

"Doris..." he whispered aloud. It wasn't her, but it was too painfully similar not to say her name. Just as he spoke, something fell from the inside of the hat. Looking down, Goob noticed a folded piece of paper that had been stuffed within the hat. He set the bowler down upon his lap before picking up the paper and unfolding it.

_"Dear Michael,_  
_I assumed that you would not wish to speak with me and so I wrote this note to accompany the box that I have given you. It's been a long time since I've last seen you and there's much I wish I could tell you but I understand your wanting to be left alone. You can be rest assured that I will not attempt to bother you after this. You deserve to live in peace. However, I appeared with this box because I thought perhaps you might want your binder back. You use to carry it with you everywhere when we were kids and since you dropped it over a week ago I figured you'd want it back._  
_I have also left for you a hat. I found it in the attic of my house. It belonged to an old relative of my wife Franny and she had kept it in storage, unsure of what to do with it. I have sent it to you for two reasons. One, I'm assuming you live alone and this is the only way I can help ease the thought of you being by yourself. While it may not be able to beep or move, I thought perhaps you could use it as a soft reminder of times gone by so that the past did not haunt you as badly, since I'm guessing it does. And reason number two, I believe this to be the very hat that I would have used had I actually implemented the Helping Hat. Often times when inventing I try to use things around the home and I truly think that this bowler hat would have become DOR-15. Upon this realization, I thought it only necessary that you were the one to have it. Franny was understanding and allowed my giving it to you._  
_I can only hope that these items offer some kind of closing for the adventure we had. And if this is the last time that I have a chance to say something to you, then I wish you all the best in your future._  
_Keep moving forward, Lewis"_

Goob let the note slip from his fingers and drift to the floor. Staring at the hat in his lap like a deer in the headlights, slowly his shoulders began to shake. And then his hands. And then his arms. And soon his lip began to tremble. Sucking in an air full of breath, Michael gripped the hat tightly towards his chest and hugged it, finally releasing the tears he had held back for so long.

He continued to weep for hours.


	3. Chapter 3

"Well... how did it go?"

Franny followed Cornelius around the house like a dog, eager to hear the news. He had returned several hours ago from his hunt for Goob but she hadn't realized due to the fact that she was busy training her frogs to sing. She figured he might be gone for a while if he had been successful in speaking with his old roommate and so she decided to bide her time until his return. But since Cornelius hadn't come to her right away with the latest insight on the whereabouts of Goob and whether or not he had been able to deliver the binder and hat, she was suddenly concerned that perhaps her husband had learned the hard way that his roommate wasn't intending to ever come back. She hated seeing him so upset, even if she had expected this outcome all along.

"I don't know why I thought it would turn out differently." Cornelius said, aimlessly walking down the second floor hallway. The right wall was covered in family portraits, some big and some small. The left side wall was made entirely of glass so as to offer a beautiful overlook of the countryside. At the moment the sun was preparing to set, casting long and dark shadows across the landscape. "Looking back on it he acted exactly like how I should have known he would. I suppose I just hoped seeing me like this and not when I was twelve might have eased him into coming here."

"You know you can't force him here."

"I know that."

"Did he at least appreciate what you sent him?"

Cornelius paused, turning to look at Franny. He chewed the inside of his lip, thinking.

"I didn't see him open it. But I did see him take it inside. I hid behind a car and looked through the window to watch for him to open the front door. He didn't notice me."

Franny nodded her head.

"And that's all you can do for now."

Cornelius nodded back before sighing and turning to look out the large window before him. Franny leaned her head against his shoulder, staring at the orange and yellow sunset. Dark clouds were gathering in the distance, an ominous sign of the storm that would no doubt hit the house by midnight.

"You're right." He said.

"I always am." She grinned, giving him a small kiss on the shoulder.

Rain poured down in sheets upon the Robinson's household. Giant globs of water crashed into the roof so heavily that the noise nearly sounded like horse hooves. Trees appeared to dance from the water splashing against each leaf and the ground formed puddles large enough to be considered small ponds. It had been a long time since Todayland had seem this much rain. And if the loud water droplets weren't bad enough, the howling wind made it all the worse. From clanging tree branches against windows to the sound of air rushing past so fast that one could hardly be mistaken if they thought it was a train, it was a wonder that anyone was able to sleep through it.

In the master bedroom slept Cornelius and Franny Robinson. While it had certainly taken a while for them to fall asleep, they now snoozed quietly through the storm.  
That is, until a pounding was heard on the front door. Neither of the Robinsons heard it at first, seeing as how the storm was loud enough as it was to not bother them. But after a full minute of incessant knocking, they both were startled awake.

Franny blinked a few times, groggily leaning up onto an elbow to look around with a dazed expression. Cornelius was a little more conscious and thus was able to turn and grab his glasses from the night stand before staring at the door of the bedroom. Who could possibly be knocking at this hour..?

Suddenly Cornelius' eyes went wide and he perked up as an idea of who could be at the door came to mind. He threw the covers off of him before shushing Franny and telling her to go back to sleep. Too excited by the prospect of an unexpected guest, the inventor didn't bother putting on his slippers (although he did grab his lab coat as that was almost always on his person). Rushing down the steps, he was just in time to tell their butler Lefty to leave the door alone and that he would get it. The purple octopus groaned, clearly a bit upset over having been woken up, but obeyed and returned to its room.

Cornelius hesitated. The person, whoever it was, was still pounding at the door, desperate to get inside. But the inventor still paused his hand above the doorknob. Could it be..? Would he really come at this hour? In this storm?

There was only one way to find out. He snatched the handle and pulled open the door as hard as he could. Immediately, two clenched hands that had been slamming against the door fell forward and the person nearly tumbled over. Catching themselves against the door frame, they looked up at Cornelius with pitiful eyes.  
"Goob..." The inventor whispered, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I-I..." began the man in black, but he couldn't form the words. Shivering from the rain, drenched in water and unable to speak, Goob turned suddenly as though he suddenly regretted appearing at the door.

"No, wait-!" Cornelius yelled, reaching forward to grab the air. Michael hesitated, stuck between fight-or-flight.

"At least come in from the rain?" the inventor pleaded, not wanting to let his old roommate leave his grasp now that he had a second chance to talk.

Goob stared at Cornelius for a long moment. Debating on whether or not to go inside. But after locking eyes to see if he trusted the inventor, Goob finally made the decision to step forward. Cornelius moved backward to let him, smiling all the while, before shutting the door quietly behind him.

It was the first time Michael had ever been inside the Robinson household. Instinctively he raised his hands to his opposite elbows in a protective hunched-over stance. He nervously looked around as though he expected something to jump out at him from any angle. Eventually he turned to look at the inventor who was busy watching him with curiosity.

"Maybe we should talk in the study." Cornelius said before walking over to the left side of the front hall and stepping into the next room. Goob followed without a word, still looking around with a shifty-eyed expression.

The study was dark. Two yellow couches sat opposite each other between an abstract rug. There was a fireplace centered on the wall as well as a desk and some books to one side of the room.

Cornelius stepped forward and flipped a small switch next to the mantel. A fire started with a spark within the chimney and almost immediately the room began to fill with heat. The room flickered with the light, revealing a strange yellow glow against the immediate objects nearby. The inventor turned around to see where Goob was. He was standing near the doorway, apparently still intrusting of the inventor.

"You're soaking wet and probably cold. It would be good to sit by the fire."

Goob didn't move. At least not at first. He played with his fingers in his hands for a moment before slinking forward with his long legs to sit upon the left side couch. Cornelius sat opposite him, clasping his hands in his lap. It was an awkward silence.

The inventor looked at Goob with fascination. His friend, if he could even call him that, seemed troubled. Understandably so. A lot of time had past and a lot had happened to each. Yet while they both had things they needed to say, neither were able to start the conversation. There was so much Cornelius wished he could say. So many words to try and explain the last thirty years. And yet there was no easy way to begin. But judging by the expression on his old roommate's face, Goob wasn't going to start first.

"So... you got my letter then?" Cornelius asked. Michael looked up from the floor and met the inventor's gaze. Slowly, he nodded. Both of them looked away from the other. Cornelius stared at the fire. This conversation was going nowhere. He had to be up front and forward if he was going to get an answer.

"Have you..." he said slowly, not removing his gaze from the flames. "...considered my offer?"

Michael snapped to attention.

"I'm not here for that." he said.

Cornelius blinked.

"Oh." he said, completely confused. What else was Goob here for? He furrowed his brow, staring at the man before him with a puzzled expression. Was he not here to beg to be brought back into the house? Not that he would have to beg in the first place, that is. Cornelius knew the second he opened the door that he was intending to allow him to do so.

"But... why are you here then?" The inventor asked.

"I... Well... uh..." Goob trailed off in his response, shifting his eyes around the room nervously and playing with his hands. "I wanted to... to... to ask you a favor."  
Cornelius now was more confused than ever.

"Oh." he said in the same tone he had used before. "Well... what is it?" he asked, leaning forward with his elbows against his knees.

Goob didn't respond, nervously twiddling his thumbs and staring at the floor. Whatever it was, he was embarrassed to ask. But Cornelius didn't pressure him into answering, assuming he would speak when he was ready to. Finally, Michael reached behind his back into the folds of his cape and removed a black object which he set upon his lap. Upon the sight of it, Cornelius sat back with a suspicious air. Light from the fireplace flickered against it. The inventor was suddenly nervous of the favor that Goob needed.

"Please..." Goob started to say, curling his fingers against the edges of the hat. "Rebuild her."

Cornelius' eyes grew wide and he nearly gawked had he not tried hard to suppress it.  
"What?!"

"You build machines and robots and other mechanical... science... things... I know you can do it."

"Goob, I can't."

"Please."

"I can't do that! You know what she did! If I re-built her, she'd do the same exact thing as before!"

Michael remained quiet, looking down at the bowler hat with sadness. Cornelius couldn't believe what Goob was asking of him. How could he possibly think that was a good idea? And especially after having learned what Doris had done to betray him. Why on Earth would he want her back now?

"Goob, why would you want this? She did nothing but harm everyone around her. She took over everything. I showed that to you. What's the point in-"

"We were the perfect team."

"What? Goob..."

"Lewis, I have nothing. Nothing but a crushed dream and the room we use to live in!"

"But Goob, you have-"

"I need her."

"But don't you see that-"

"I need her. Maybe not exactly the way she was, but at least the good parts that I remember!"

"Goob, you don't-"

"Stop calling me that!" Michael suddenly bursted out, gripping the edges of the bowler hat out of anger. Cornelius, shocked by the yelling, kept quiet. Goob continued to glare before looking back down at this lap.

"You don't understand." he said, tucking the hat back into the folds of his cape. He stood, making Cornelius feel that he had to do the same. The inventor looked concerned, raising his hands as though ready to stop Goob from leaving but he found he was unable to bring himself to do it. Before Cornelius could do anything, Michael broke into a sprint and ran for the door. Cornelius stumbled forward, missing the chance to grab his old roommate. Goob flung the front door open and disappeared into the heavy rain. Cornelius ran after him but stopped at the door, instead choosing to stand and try to yell after him. But his voice was lost in the storm and Michael was already gone.


	4. Chapter 4

"I just don't understand." Cornelius said, palm resting against his forehead in frustration. "Rebuild Doris? Why would he want that? It makes absolutely no sense at all."

He paced around his laboratory, sighing here and there and muttering under his breath. Mrs. Robinson, meanwhile, sat in a nearby chair and played with her fingers as she watched him with worry.

"He could live here with us and be happy! I know he would be happy here. What's wrong with us? He'd have a family, and he wouldn't be alone, and-"

"Honey, you're thinking the wrong way about this." Franny interjected.

"What do you mean?" Cornelius asked, not stopping his pacing. Being unable to fix his old roommate's situation was upsetting him. He had worked hard to try and prove that moving forward was always the best solution. It was difficult to see someone so obviously in need of help reject his advice. Especially in this situation where he remembered feeling just as alone and scared about not having a future in the same way that he believed Goob was feeling now. It was a terrible feeling. The fact that Goob had been living with that fear for the past thirty years was troubling.

"Well... I mean, think about it. He's been stuck in that same place for all those years, pent up and feeling nothing but anger and resentment towards you. He's probably not very social and doesn't do too well around others. It would be natural for him to form a sort of... bond... with an object rather than a real person. Especially an object that could still communicate very well and act like a human but not actually be human."

Cornelius stopped pacing and put a finger to his chin. He stared at the floor hard in thought. Franny certainly made an excellent point. However...

"But Doris wouldn't want to be his friend." Cornelius explained. "She wanted nothing more than to control everything. She used him. If I built her the way I had before, it wouldn't be any different. She'd leave him in the gutter or worse."

"He's in denial. He looks back on those memories and only remembers what he believed was happening during those times. He saw friendship and that's all that matters to him. He's not thinking about the bad that she did or the fact that she lied to him. He believes her to be good because he doesn't want to remember the bad. His mind is refusing to let go of the part he misses because he's that desperate for a connection. He misses that feeling of being close to someone."

Cornelius sighed. Franny was, of course, right. Connecting with an inanimate object made sense given the circumstances. It just seemed a shame that Goob didn't come to terms with that connection and move on to a true and honest friend, like himself.

Shrugging his shoulders in a manner that reflected he was giving up, Cornelius sat down with a huff in a chair next to his wife. He sat his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his palm, staring off at the wall across the room.

"Human emotions are complicated." he said. Franny smiled and patted her hand against his arm. He was frustrated and understandably so. She agreed that Goob would probably be happy here. But she knew it would take a lot of trust for that man to be willing to live here.

"I mean, really." Cornelius continued. "Memories especially. You look back on a specific event and think one thing happened but really something else was happening altogether. It's like our mind creates the memories that we want to see, rather than exactly as they happened. You know, I remember experimenting with the memory scanner and there were times I watched as things happened that either I didn't remember myself or else I had remembered a different way."

"Really?" Franny asked.

"Yeah. Like one time I remembered showing a classmate in school a specific idea I had for an invention and I thought he was so interested and intrigued by it. I looked up that memory and it turns out he was showing signs of boredom listening to me. Boy, was I disappointed."

They sat together in silence for a moment. Mrs. Robinsons drifted her eyes to the notes upon the table in front of them. There were plans for all sorts of inventions and ideas that her husband had. Just looking at them made her smile. He was always trying to improve the daily lives of people. Attempting to fix any problem they might have, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant. No wonder he was stuck on Goob.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed quietly. It was getting late.

"Well at least you gave him the letter." she said. "That will give him something to think about for now and only time will tell if he changes his mind."

Cornelius didn't respond. Frowning slightly, Franny turned her gaze from the clock to her husband. He was brooding with a strange expression. Tilting her head in wonder, she stared at him, suddenly concerned.

"What?" she asked.

Cornelius didn't answer. He was too busy staring intently at the table. It appeared as though he were lost in thought. And indeed he was. For an idea had struck him rather oddly and he was very disturbed by it. Finally, after another moment of contemplation, he looked over at Franny hesitantly.

"Franny... What if I... built Doris differently..?"

"What?!" Franny blurted, completely taken aback.

"I'm sorry, I know..." Cornelius said, removing his hand away from his face. He crossed his arms and sat back in his chair, still staring intently at the wall. "It was a random thought. I must sound crazy."

"It does sound crazy! It's completely crazy! Why would you even consider that?!"

Cornelius paused, raising his hands in the air to figuratively steady his wife's nerves.

"Well... Okay, just hear me out. I know what I said before but just listen. Let's pretend I were to create Doris again. In the same image as she was before. And this is all figuratively speaking, of course."

"It better be!" Franny warned, crossing her arms.

"Yes, yes. Now listen. If I were to create the Helping Hat now, given the fact that I have the memory of what she had become before, it only stands to reason that I would do everything in my power to not create her exactly the same. Correct?"

"Okay..."

"And really, it would be a paradox for her to exist exactly the same because she disappeared immediately once I said I would never invent her. So she would look the same and have the same abilities of movement and such, but her so called "mentality" would be different. So she would be completely harmless and Goob could still have a friend. Right?"

Franny blinked, trying to take in the information. She didn't like the topic of conversation but so long as it was all figurative, she was fine with at least going along with it for now. She looked down at the floor, considering what Cornelius had said. Would that technically work?

"No..." she said eventually, bringing her eyes back to his level. "That wouldn't work. Goob remembers her a specific way. Even if she looks and moves the same, he wouldn't think it was her if she didn't act the same way."

A small hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Mr. Robinson's lips. Franny squinted her eyes at him. She knew that suspicious expression.

"But she could act the same and still be completely harmless."

"How?"

"Well..." Cornelius began, turning his head to look at his memory scanner in the far corner of the room currently tucked away underneath a lavender blanket. "We were talking about memories, correct? And the fact that we perceived them differently then how they truly were. What if I re-worked the memory scanner to extract the perceived memories rather than the true memories? I could take Goob's memories of what he believed Doris was like and plug those into a new and revised edition of the Helping Hat. She could be exactly the same with her personality and abilities, but have her twisted greed for power removed."

Franny looked from the memory scanner to Cornelius and back again.

"But the memories he has of her also involve watching her become power hungry. He watched her hate you and plot an entire plan on how to take revenge against you. If you plug those memories into her then her only understanding will be to plot another revenge. She'd come after you."

Cornelius nodded his head.

"Yes. That's true. If I put those memories in."

"Huh?"

Mr. Robinson raised his hands to adjust his glasses as they had slid slightly down his nose during the conversation. "Last night Goob made an interesting comment to me. When he asked for me to build Doris he said "Maybe not exactly the way she was, but at least the good parts that I remember". So what I could do is go through the memories that I extract and remove any parts that suggest she was plotting anything and just leave the bits that appear to be regular conversation or general personality. I could, in a way, leave the good parts that he remembers."

Franny felt frozen in her chair. Would that really work..? The theory was certainly impressive... And he of all people would be the one to trust with that kind of delicate experiment... No, wait! This was all wrong! The way he was talking didn't sound figurative at all... He couldn't do that! What if something went wrong? What if the principle was correct but it was executed incorrectly and thus Doris returned exactly the same as before?

"And..." Cornelius continued, catching her frightful gaze. "I would add in another feature. A new feature. One that would promise that if anything went wrong, we could stop her without having to go through a large catastrophe like last time."

"...What..?" Franny asked, unable to comment other than to simply ask a question.

"I could create a small device within her mainframe that could immediately shut her down with a simple press of a button should a time come where that was needed."

Franny didn't respond. She couldn't respond. He was definitely not talking figuratively now. Nervously she placed her hand against the desk and tapped it lightly with her fingers. But it wasn't his crazed idea that caused her to be nervous. What worried her the most was the fact that she didn't want to admit that she thought the idea was brilliant. She refused to believe that this was the right answer and yet she couldn't help but feel like it was worth trying. Perhaps it was the fact that she was married to a scientist that she felt all ridiculous ideas were worth attempting. Perhaps it was the fact that the Robinsons were naturally curious and the idea of failure didn't bother them. Regardless of the reason, Mrs. Robinson sat in her chair looking dumbfounded and unable to answer. She played with her dress and chewed her lip. This was wrong. Goob deserved human contact, not an inanimate object. But she herself had said he was trapped in his own world for thirty years. Was he too far gone anyway? Was this the only way to offer him peace of mind?

"Franny, if I was careful, I think it could work."

She looked up at her husband with sad eyes. She didn't want to doubt his ability to be careful but something in the back of her mind told her this wasn't a good idea. If he really did re-invent Doris... would Goob be happy? She supposed he would be. It was, after all, what he asked for. And if Cornelius was successful then both of them would be put at ease. He wanted so desperately to help his old roommate. Perhaps this really was the best solution, even if it was a crazed one...

She raised her hands and placed them gently onto his knee. Cornelius looked down at her with a pitiful smile. One that reflected that he understood her concern but begged for her to agree with his idea. He couldn't do it without her permission. He knew what he would be doing was risky, but he had to do it.

"Please... don't forget about that new feature..."

Cornelius wrapped his arms around Franny and hugged her tightly.

"I wont."


End file.
